Anger Management
by Mrstrentreznor
Summary: Leah is angry. She likes her anger. She thinks it helps her, but it doesn't. M AU,


Prompt 3 from the anon twi fic contest. Yeah, still writing for it even though it's over. Lol.

Yemonja wanted a Leah/Paul one shot so this is for her.

The picture was a couple in the shower, but it didn't look like sex to me, but more like comfort. And I remembered seeing an interview with Chaske where he said Alex Meraz got so into the Paul role that he actually choked Kristen in the slap scene.

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**Anger management**

_Disclaimer: the characters and all recognisable situations belong to Stephenie Meyer - this is a work of fan fiction, except for the legends and histories of the Quileute that, of course, belong to them. I pay my respects to their gods._

Leah needed anger. It kept her alive. It kept her warm. It kept her on her feet when she felt like falling over and never getting up again. She liked anger. Lucky, she had plenty to be angry about. She had been dumped. She had lost her man to her cousin and alleged best friend. Yeah right. That should be past tense shouldn't it? They didn't speak now and were no longer friends. Emily was a saint but Leah wasn't. She didn't have it in her to be nice to _**either**_ of them, Sam or Emily.

She had argued with her father and found herself literally tearing apart. Turning into something she didn't recognise. And that thing had frightened her father so badly he had a coronary and died. And then her baby brother had seen them, panicked and fallen apart himself.

It was **all** her fault.

Then she had to be in _his_ pack. Sam was the alpha wolf; the leader. She had to be under his command. Do whatever he told her to. And worse, (and this was especially nauseating from the wolf gods) she had to hear his thoughts in her head. She had to find out that his love for her; that real, ordinary love had been almost completely snuffed out of existence. It was buried so deep in his psyche that he barely even recognised her anymore, let alone remembered that he used to love her.

And that hurt. It hurt a lot.

And there was even another thing that was worse. Horny teenage boys.

They were bad enough to have to hang round with all the time, but to patrol with them was a special kind of torture. Mind sharing with teenage boys was… bad; epically bad. Worse, because she was almost positive that none of them had a clue what to do with a woman if they ever got one.

She had never been particularly happy about those guys who wolf whistled at you and called out stupid things when you walked past. She thought it was cowardly and demonstrated their complete lack of confidence with women. If they really knew what to do, they would be trying to get you to go on a date. And as far as she knew, no woman ever went out with a guy who called out shit to her in the street. Jerkoffs.

That was the level of shit she had to put up with. All talk and no action.

Except maybe Paul.

And when one of those teenage boys was your little brother? Yeah. Thanks for that, wolf gods. No one else had to share their thoughts with their sibling. No one. That was a special treat reserved for the Clearwaters.

Also, she was a wolf who had an anger problem.

In real terms, that meant that she busted out of her clothing …a lot. Too much. She no longer had any secrets or any bras. And the boys had noticed. She punched Embry in the face and broke his nose the first time he thought about how well her boobs jiggled without one.

She almost preferred to patrol with Jared and listen to his nauseating thoughts about his perfect little Kimmie. Ugh. Almost. And Jacob Black? Oh my god, he was worse. He hadn't imprinted, but all he thought about was mousy, klutzy little Bella Swan and how she didn't know that he existed. Ugh. The girl was a freak who dated vampires. Jeez Jake. Get over it, she wanted to tell him. But she had no right. She hadn't got over Sam.

Instead, somehow she ended up with Paul a lot. The angry wolf pair. Paul had just as many issues as she did keeping it under control early on, but he was a little better now. She didn't know how he did it, but he managed to keep a pretty tight lid on his head. She knew he had fucked all of the rez eligible females and half the town but he never let it slip. Not once. Paul wasn't like the others. He knew what to do with a woman for a start.

Personally she was frightened to go there now. Have sex with someone and let it slip to the pack. She just wouldn't do it. She knew she couldn't keep it private and it **was**… you know? They didn't need to see her do that. She was not their private porn channel.

She got angrier.

She didn't think it was possible.

She broke Quil's arm when he said 'that's what she said' one too many times. It was fair. She had warned him. Maybe next time he would listen.

But Sam was livid. He shouted at her and she told him to get fucked. He sent her home. And she had to go. It was an _order_. Stupid fucking wolf alphas and their stupid fucking orders.

She threw herself on the sofa and she felt like screaming with frustration. She sat forwards, put her head in her hands and despaired. She was never going to escape the complete shit-fest that was her life. She just could not see any way out. The hole just got deeper and deeper the more she fought against it.

She heard the back screen door slam and she knew who it was the second he walked into the house. She could smell him. "You sent to check on me?"

"Nope."

She looked up at him, then.

"You crying?" Paul asked.

"Nope."

He nodded but looked doubtful.

"I am incandescent," she told him.

He raised one eyebrow.

"I am. I just burn shit off before it gets close to me," she justified.

"Uh huh. Got any food, I've burnt off enough shit today."

She waved at the fridge with a hand.

He dug around it and emerged with a container of mac and cheese. He grabbed a fork from the drying rack and threw himself down next to her. He ate a few mouthfuls. She just sat there and watched him. He offered her some. Held the container her way. She stole his fork and ate a mouthful. He got to his feet and went and got another one. He took the food with him. She chuckled.

They finished it all. Paul dumped the empty container on the coffee table and stretched his legs out.

"You burn that bright and you'll run out of batteries," he said.

"That's your advice?"

"Yep. Take it, it's free."

She snorted. Free advice. She tried to remember the last time he had lost his temper. "The last time you lost it… was that Bella?"

"Yep."

"Wow."

"I lost my shit that day big time. I half strangled her."

"She slapped you."

"I deserved it. I was out of line. When you graduate from hurting yourself to hurting others… it's gotta stop."

"That's your advice?"

"Yeah. It's like medicine; you have to take it for it to do any good."

She laughed. He grinned at her.

He patted her on the thigh and rose to his feet. "Later," he said and then he left.

She snorted and shook her head. Medicine.

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She did try. But it was so hard. She couldn't forgive and she couldn't forget. But she knew what Paul meant. Half the pack was scared of her now. And the quaky noobs Brady and Collin literally pissed themselves in wolf form when she was around. Awesome.

But she didn't scare Paul, so Sam stuck them together more and more.

She got used to him being around. She still never caught him thinking about any of his women. She knew he had them, he smelt like them some days. Smelled like sex.

So she asked, "How can you keep such good control on your thoughts?"

"About what?"

"Women."

He shrugged. "I just don't think about them."

Wow. "Really? You mean you have sex with someone and then don't think about them again?"

He frowned at her. "It's not like they mean anything." He looked genuinely puzzled.

"That's kind of sad," she said before she stopped to think about it.

His eyes narrowed. "Right. While endlessly agonising over the guy you **can't** have, that doesn't **want** you, is healthy."

"Fuck you, Paul," she snapped.

He just laughed. It sounded ugly. "Yeah?" He leaned in to her and almost growled, "You wanna? You want to fuck me? Huh, Leah?"

She let out a startled squeak noise. She panicked and she ran. His laughter followed her. She hated this. Her hands shook and all her hard won self-confidence and bravado had just evaporated. Her angry 'fuck you' exterior was a thin veneer and he had just shattered it. She got home and she actually cried. Thank Christ there was no one else there. She was a mess. She didn't need any witnesses to it.

About two hours later there was a knock at the door.

"Fuck off," she shouted at him.

"I'm sorry, Leah." He said it so quietly she knew he was leaning against the frame and whispering into the crack of the door. "Sorry."

She took a deep breath and she opened the door. "For fuck's sake, you reek!" she blurted out. He had clearly just come from someone's bed.

"I know. I'm sorry. I had to come and apologise."

His eyes. He did look sorry.

"S'not your fault," she conceded.

"I was mean."

"Yes."

"Sorry."

"You said that. I'm sorry, too." She had hurt him as well. That was why he had lashed out at her.

"Friends?"

Were they? Maybe they were. "Okay."

He was still standing there.

She rolled her eyes. "Do you want to come in?"

He smiled. "Thanks." He slid past her. Her nose wrinkled. "Jeez, you need a shower."

"You offering?"

"You know where it is."

He reached out, uncharacteristically nervously, and he took hold of her hand. He stepped backwards and tugged her with him. "Come with?" he offered.

"I don't want sex," she said.

"Me either. Just had some." His eyes looked so serious. "It's not sex you need, Leah. It's touch."

Touch.

She blinked.

Nobody touched her. Even Seth didn't hug her anymore. She was blazing with her incandescent anger and she burnt off everything before it got close to her. _Everything_. The good and the bad.

"I'll wash your back," he offered.

She didn't reply and he took that as consent. He tugged her down the hall to the bathroom. Flicked the water on and started sliding his cut-offs down. "Come on. We see each other naked all the time."

She was mechanical; she undressed and stepped into the shower. He followed her in.

She turned to face him. She put her hand up and pressed it flat against his chest. He was so warm. He shuffled a tiny bit closer to her. He moved achingly slowly, he bent his head down and he pressed his forehead against the top of her shoulder. They stood there, barely breathing. And then he let out a sigh.

She matched it. She closed her eyes and she felt him move that final inch. He held her to him. Flesh to flesh. Plastered along his body. His warmth, his flesh, his scent that underlay the reek of the strange girl. He was pack. He was her friend and he was holding her.

Her arm reached up and slid around his neck. He made a noise that sounded like a low purr. Her inner wolf was very pleased to have such a strong male near.

"Can you stay?" she whispered.

His head drew back to see her face. He studied it and then nodded.

"No sex," she added.

"You're not ready," he said. He smiled. It promised a thousand things. "Not yet," he added.

She smiled back at him.

He washed her back.

Later, they lay in her bed. He spooned her. She could feel his breath gusting across her neck. His rough fingertips stroking over her thigh. His other arm wrapped around her chest holding her close. She slept. She felt safe.

She found him in the dark when she was ready.

Afterwards, they lay facing each other. His fingers brushed her hair from her sweaty face.

"Anger and sex," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Neither worked for me."

He just seemed to understand her. Been there, done that, she supposed. She hadn't tried sex to fill the yawning chasm inside her, but he was that much further down the path than her. He had been a wolf longer than her, too.

"Can't promise to keep this memory private," he confessed.

She almost frowned at him but then she got what he meant. He didn't think about the other women because they didn't mean anything to him. That meant that she did. It was his Paul way of saying that he cared about her.

"Me either." She kissed him.

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The next time they were at a pack meeting and Quil said something sexually overt to her, Paul broke his arm before Leah could.

Everyone just looked at him. Sam frowned. Paul stood his ground.

Leah stepped up and stood next to him. He reached down and held her hand.

They all saw it. The pack understood. Paul had just staked his claim. No one dissed his female.

They left them alone.

Things got better. So much better. She didn't need anger to keep her warm now. She had him for that.


End file.
